Vacillate
by cappie
Summary: My mind betrays me even now. I will not deny it, privately, that these feelings I share for the boy are deep. Too deep. For me they go beyond the boundaries of Master and apprentice. AnakinObiWan
1. 1

When I first met Anakin, those many moons ago, I was amazed by his ability; not only as a pilot, but at his personal strength. Now, as those moons passed, I have watched my young Padawan learner grow-(and dare I say blossom?)-into a Jedi I could only dream of becoming.

I do not tell him that soon, very soon, his powers will have exceeded mine. The boy needs little encouragement. I think just living is enough for him.

Nevertheless, there are those moments—those dark, fierce and angry moments when sometimes I feel the trembling of regret inside my soul.

And even when that madness and anger does not over power him, even in the darkness of the night when we both rest, I feel that same regret.

But it is regret of a very different nature.

* * *

**Vacillate

* * *

**

Our journey from the Jedi counsel has taken us _yet again_ into the far breadths of the galaxy, away from this over-boding sense of anxiety that overwhelms us. Yet even on this planet, very much like Anakin's home planet of Tatooine, this tremor follows us.

It will be years before I realize with what force this shock will consume us all.

Such are the seeds of my undoing—this boy.

"You are worried, Master," he declares to me from across the spit of fire he has just made.

I don't answer him. He is young yet, and does not need the weight that I carry upon my shoulders. He is merely sixteen, but already he had a way of noticing when I am not in one of my better moods.

"Its nothing, Anakin," I sigh to myself, stabbing the meat with a skewer and roasting it over the fire.

He looks hurt, but does not say anything. I have taught him well and he knows when some things should remain unsaid.

Anakin now tends to his own food, and leaves me in my troubled state.

But this thinking will get me nowhere—this whisper of the Sith, it will do no good. I should turn my mind to more pleasant thoughts, appealing thoughts, something to distract me.

I glance up at Anakin.

And quickly look away.

My mind betrays me even now. I will not deny it, privately, that these feels I share for the boy are deep. Too deep. For me they go beyond the boundaries of Master and apprentice. They go far beyond…

Yet it is still as though something pulls me forward to his side, I look up again and find him watching me. He does this often but most of the time I ignore it. I _have_ to ignore it—for out here in the wilderness of the Universe nothing can save you from temptation.

I think back to when I was sixteen. I had a similar attachment to my master, Qui Gon-Jinn. Of course, that led to the exact same place I fear this one might lead.

The Jedi deny us love—but this is not to say we cannot become lovers. It may be a transient love, for our lifeline is as undetermined as the course of the wind.

Quite easily one of us may be blown to bits.

Stabbed.

Die.

And become part of that great beyond.

But as I say again, we mustn't become lovers.

I fear for myself though. Day by day these feelings grow stronger for the boy I should—quite rightly—look upon as a son. And yet, that connection hasn't grown and all that I can see him as is a young man, gazing at me with those eyes, which give away his every desire.

He is sixteen, and so I must forgive his bodily tendencies. I should allow him to take care of his needs somewhere else, privately, alone and away from me.

But I cannot. And I continue to hold his gaze from across the sparks.

When he moved I am visibly disturbed. The space is already closing between us and even though he is my friend and apprentice I can see an almost carnivore-like pleasure emitting from his eyes.

I would grab for my Lightsaber if I knew it wasn't Anakin.

But I don't move. I don't want to. Dare I wish to ponder the possibilities? What would Anakin do if I brushed his hair away from his eyes? Would he pull away from my touch—understanding that there is much more to his master than he believes?

Would he make a sound?

Would he lean forward?

Would he…?

When I feel something wet and hot against my mouth it takes me a moment to realize what has happened—to feel fingers running through my hair and a great wash of heat suddenly flashes over me.

The boy is kissing me. Hard, and long, and sweet.

I can feel his tension and inner turmoil over his actions as he searches ever deeper into my mouth and the great wet blackness that surrounds him only encourages his actions. I can feel everything about him, his power is enormous and he nearly swallows me up in his unpolished fever—lips are everywhere, their presence dragging me to the ground and a slight moan escapes me mouth as he falls down atop me.

Everything is so clear.

We pull away and my breathing is ragged.

"You shouldn't have done that," I find myself whispering as I gaze into his glazed eyes.

"You shouldn't have let me," is all he replies.

And a second later we are but a tangle of limbs in the wild, wrestling with each other as one, with an unleashed passion with no regard for the consequences


	2. 2

I awake to the distant sounds of birds on the horizon. My eyes open, slowly at first, not used to the light. I find that it is early dawn, and the sun has not even yet risen.

The dry world is cast into Technicolor shades of lavender and grey.

I sense movement behind me, and for the first time I realize that Anakin isn't here.

I am up in a flash, attempting to hide any emotion that is coursing through my body. I should know better than this. I am a Jedi master, I should surely know better than this.

Yet, the thoughts of last night fill my mind, and I cannot help but question.

It is only then, amidst the dusty land of this distant planet that I realize something very odd.

The fact that I am fully clothed.

But, I throw this thought out of my mind as soon as it comes.

I silence everything, all thoughts and all emotions.

And wait.

The force stirs quietly, shifts, and I can feel his presence.

The ship, he is in the ship, and I am glad that Qui-Gon is not here to see my total and complete lack of restraint. Last night was bad enough, but to become so panicked when that headstrong boy is out of my sight—it is unforgivable.

Anakin has always been in a separate league.

And diligently, I follow him, cleaning his cuts and comforting him in my silent ways.

Last night was the end of that.

And now we are new people.

Or so I think.

* * *

**Vacillate

* * *

**

He looks up at me when I entered the control room of the ship, and I can tell that he is well rested and anxious to complete our mission.

"You're awake at last, Master," he greets, his sly grin slipping out again.

At first I am rather speechless. His manners and utter lack of embarrassment were not what I had expected at all.

Perhaps he is more mature than I first believed!

"Masters are allowed to sleep in, from time to time, Padawan," I reply curtly, aware that I am smirking as well I sit down into the pilot's seat.

"Is that so? Well, I hope you will allow me that privilege, from time to time," he counters as he absently dusts off a few handles in the gray light of day.

I study him from my seat and wonder—should I say something? Is this how our relationship is to continue? On the surface that same level of formality and camaraderie and underneath the darkness that is our desire…

But that darkness is dangerous.

Easily, it could lead into uncharted waters and foreboding territory.

And just as easily it could lead to the dark side.

"We received a transmission from the Jedi counsel late last night, but I decided not to wake you up. It wasn't that important, really," Anakin proclaims, getting up to put away the rag.

"Oh?" I question, slightly alarmed and confused.

How was it that he knew of this transmission when…?

"And what did it say?" I play off the incident as though I know what I am doing. I am feeling quite cold, despite the rising temperatures of this desert planet.

"The meeting we had scheduled with this section of the Trade Federation Commission has been pushed back until later this evening—one of the representatives had a nasty run in with a speeder yesterday night."

I wince.

Anakin grins.

"Always one for clean wounds, weren't you?" My young Padawan teases, that grin re-appearing.

"Blood is something I prefer to avoid," I counter, now moving my way towards his figure.

He is nearly my height now…

I can delay this question no longer—for everything I had once presumed is now slowly disappearing before my eyes.

Is it possible I dreamt the whole scenario? Could dreams be _this _real?

_I must be turning into Anakin, if that is the case,_ I think darkly.

"Anakin," I question, nearing him, unfortunately aware that I can sense everything about the boy. His scent overpowers me and I close my eyes for a moment, "What happened last night?"

He looks confused for a moment and quickly, with no hesitation, he questions, "What do you mean?"

That was the response I was afraid of. Inwardly I gulp. Calm your senses. Calm…

"I mean…did anything happen last night? After dinner, that is?"

"You went to sleep, Master. Quite suddenly, actually." He pauses, and chuckles, moving away from me. But, suddenly, I sense a wave of uneasiness emitting from his form, "You were out like that!"

He snaps his fingers to illustrate the point.

Dare I feel regret? To have dreamt such a vivid dream? To have nearly felt that pleasure? I have saved our relationship, I tell myself! There is nothing that you should regret! It was a blessing in disguise!

"Ah…I, see." I gulp, and turn away from him, quickly searching for something to lighten this tense mood.

I know he feels it as well as me. His senses are strong, if not stronger.

"Well then, no wonder I feel so rested! Come, on, let's go clean up camp and drive to Naielaer for supplies."

Anakin says nothing, but follows me out into the blossoming day.

He is always following me; it seems, even in my sleep.

Always one step behind mine.

If I turned around we would be touching.


	3. 3

Sometimes I find myself going over the edge when I look at him and I don't know how to stop myself. It is often, almost, a physical action. I must pull my hand away from contact, I must not look at him, and I must not meet his cheerful eyes.

I must make sure that my Master is blissfully unaware of any emotions towards him. And yet, for some odd reason, at intervals I cannot understand, I feel a sensation, a presence that is unlike any I have ever encountered.

His power and energy from this emotion consumes me, and it is at those times that I realize I am truly the apprentice, the Padawan.

Obi-Wan is my master.

He is the master of _everything.

* * *

_

**Vacillate

* * *

**

Last night's events were the closest to the edge I had ever been. I will not deny that I have played along that cliff of uncertainty many times before…but never have I nearly jumped off. Never have I allowed the uncertainty of my actions to consume me.

The basis of this whole affair started off as a moderately routine journey to some planet where our diplomatic services were needed. On exchanges such as these half the time you wait and the other half you take action.

But it is truly the waiting that kills me. Master has said that my lack of patience will be the death of him.

At times, I do believe he is right.

Yet, amongst the darkness of a desert landscape I found that I could not take my eyes off of Obi-Wan.

Who, thankfully, seemed too deep in his thoughts to notice.

It's often my luck that my master has much that burdens his mind so that my study of him may go unnoticed.

With every breath he took, I observed him from across the fire—trying to contain my emotions, both physical and mental. How had it come to be, this odd dance that the two of us played?

At times, I feel as though he purposefully pulls himself away—he does not allow us to become closer, _closer. _However jovial, however friendly we may be…there is always that rift separating us.

Only in my dreams is that rift, that separation, closed. And in those few precious hours of unconsciousness I am allowed a day I sink into my dark fantasy with a fervor that I didn't even know I have.

He collapsed, at that instant in which I was sure he would have noticed my arousal.

I was by his side in a second, wondering if perhaps he had drunk too much alcohol. My master isn't one for holding liquor well—a trait, that I am proud to say, I outdo him in. One of my few inherent abilities.

Though, I would trade it for a second if I had my Master's restraint—or even his ability with a Lightsaber.

He tells me they will come in time.

But one of these days I shall go over the edge, I know it! I know that I will act upon my desires and then it will be the end of our relationship.

I know I shall ruin everything.

I feel his brow, and lift his head onto my lap. It just seems that Obi-Wan fell asleep sitting up and fell over in his grogginess.

I can't help but grin at him. Even he, at times, displays characteristics I would have never thought.

Yet, even as I sit staring at him…I realize that the physical boundary is closed and there is nothing that can save me from the temptation.

I have always been one to risk it all.

And I do so in this instant, his slightly parted lips singing to me in the inky blackness of solitude.

I am there in an instant, both fearing and anticipating him to wake. To wish for him to respond to my advances, to know that I am going insane with a desire that will consume me like a blazing fire.

Nevertheless, I dig deeper, and run my hand through his hair, admiring that even in this dusty environment, it is soft and silky to the touch.

He groans, and I hesitate. Was that a groan of repulsion, I wonder, quickly backing away from his body…?

Or desire?

He whispers my name in his sleep. Not Padawan. Not apprentice. But _Anakin_.

I don't move. I can't. The emotions conflict within me even now and I know that I cannot continue this game.

At least, not alone.

I cannot continue on alone anymore.

I refuse to!

Out of self loathing, hatred, and a blind fog of desire, I stumble to the starship and attempt to find a fulfillment to my perversion in sleep—the only place where I am safe.

When I awake the next morning at dawn and see him resting contentedly near the smoking coals, I nearly cry.

For I feel no regret for my actions.

In fact, the only emotion that I can feel is the desire.

The desire that refuses to go away.


	4. 4

It's in the early morning hours, and I find myself performing a usual habit.

Namely, watching Anakin sleep.

I don't know when I started doing this—it's been carrying on for years. It must have started when I would awake in the night (I am a notoriously light sleeper) and watching the boy would relax me.

He is very relaxing, Anakin.

Of course, everyone is relaxing when they sleep. But, even when he twitches, or his eyebrows move in discomfort, or just his rhythmic breathing—somehow, I find myself mesmerized.

And usually, I fall asleep.

But sometimes, like tonight, I find myself studying the boy. In a way I am not allowed to do during the daylight hours.

Yet, I find myself growing ill at ease. I can sense that Anakin is slowly becoming conscious—for soon it will be dawn. I know that my young apprentice might be very well in tune to the fact that his master is gazing at him like a lovesick fool.

Immediately, I move towards the front of the Star Ship and gaze out into the mists. It is rare for this place to be cloudy, but, I must remind myself, winter is approaching, even on a desert planet.

Absently, I flick a switch, which runs a reel of the galactic news. Almost instantly, I see Senator Amidala flash across the screen, and I motion for the projection to stop.

The senator is often in the news, although my young Padawan learner does not know this. He is not one for galactic news, really. He believes in the system and trusts in it.

Perhaps more so than I do.

I read the article absently, and once I am finished reading about her most recent escapades, I recall a similar time: another hot and dusty planet. A time that now seems so long ago.

As I recall, Anakin was quite taken with 'Padmé'. They had become close friends, and I wondered if he ever thought of her.

I certainly hoped not. He should be thinking of no one else besides me—that is, his master, that, that was to say—the Jedi.

That was what I meant.

I flush at my own thoughts, but quickly bury them beneath necessity. Dawn has almost broken, and it is time that I awake my young Padawan so that we may partake in breakfast.

It's never best to let your thoughts run wild on an empty stomach.

* * *

The day, despite the clouds, was hot. Even in our speeder I found that I had been sweating. In addition, the idiot who had taken our craft had the audacity to park it a great distance away so that the two of us were forced to walk in the sweltering heat.

I have no problem walking, but desert weather, you must understand is quite unbearable.

By the time we arrive back at the ship, I am most exhausted—but, I insist that Anakin take a shower first. I will content myself with something cold to drink.

Despite the heat outside, night will soon be upon us. The past few days the temperatures have shifted radically, and it grows quite cold.

So, Anakin showers, and I wait.

Once more I am alone with my thoughts.

And with the object of them—at present, naked—I find that there is nowhere else that thoughts can turn to.

With those final feelings, I crack open a bottle of liquor.

After all, I deserve a drink with what I am forced to suffer.

* * *

I get up, and I distinctly remember that I felt fine. It was only one glass I had taken and had little affected on me at all.

I blame my lapse in judgment on my preoccupation. My thoughts do have a tendency to grow quite troublesome.

In this way, I make my way towards the shower—slightly distracted.

There was something I was supposed to remember, wasn't it? There was something, wasn't there…? There is no sound of water, so the idea of the _shower _does not enter my mind.

Until I open the door, that is.

The boy, in all my dreams and fantasies is perfect. Beautiful, in every way, shape, and form. He is my idea of everything desirable. Yet, realistically, when awake—I knew such things could not be so.

Anakin could not be so beautiful, so well-built, and so perfect.

And yet, it is so.

I am so stunned and shocked by his appearance—his started expression, the droplets of water still clinging to his shoulder and lips, his damp hair, the contour of his abdomen, all cloaked in the steamy mist that I cannot hide an expression.

I am simply amazed.

In addition, I lack words to speak. Instead, I can only stare, and grasp randomly at straws. His eyes, startled and alluring draw me dangerously close.

To me, it feels like an eternity in which the bare gleam of his body pressed me forward, but in actuality it was only a few short, brief, and painful seconds.

At last, I manage, "Excuse me."

And promptly shut the door in his face.

Upon doing so, everything that has been denied expression suddenly shifts to life.

Blood flows _everywhere. _

I have to get out, I have to. I am not safe around the boy, not when I am so _visibly _attracted to him. Thoughts may be one thing, oh yes.

But actions, quite frankly, another.

The cold night air beckons me, and grabbing the transmitter, I take it with me. I have to have some reason for leaving so quickly. As though Anakin won't suspect, but still, at least I will have an excuse.

Never in my life have I felt so unrestrained, so on-edge, so dangerous. It has never been in my nature, but over this boy I feel a fierce desire and possessiveness that I know will devour me one day.

So, taking the less appealing of the two options, I step out into the night, hoping that somehow I will find redemption the darkness.

It is not until later that I will know the consequences of these actions.


	5. 5

AN: The POV might be a little hard to follow through this chapter. It goes from Obi, to Ani, to 3rd, to Obi again. In anycase, this will probably be the concluding chapter to this story as far as I can see. I hope that everyone who read this story enjoyed the ride as much as I did. Also, for those who have been waiting my entire fanfiction career out there for this--I finally wrote some action. And I mean REAL action. With this said, younglings, beware...

In addition, I would just like to dedicate this ficlet to roundcheese who helped me through the process, and encouraged me to no ends. In addition, she is just the fuel to this fandom, and my flame would have gone out quite a bit had it not been for her.

* * *

**Vacillate**

* * *

I. Have. To. Leave. 

You couldn't understand--I must leave now before it's too late. I can hardly see anything in front of me--it's as though I'm drunk.

One foot in front of the other I stumble into the unknown. I escape into the darkness.

Really, there is nowhere else I can go. My thoughts are completely without meaning, purpose or control. All I can think about is Anakin, standing there--practically a present for the taking.

I had never been so close to the edge before. I had always considered myself a patient person who had restraint.

But not now.

Not after what I had seen. I knew that if I had stayed in that hallway--no, that ship, for a moment longer there would have been no going back.

And so, completely disregarding the weather, I do something completely foolish and ignorant. I walk alone, unprotected, through the wilds of the planet. Something, my mind notes dimly, that only Anakin would do.

* * *

I was shocked when Obi-Wan stepped into the shower. It was as though my prayers had been answered--at last, my mind yelled--there will be no more of _this_! There will be no more restraint, and meditation, and passionless existence. There _would_ have been no denial. 

There would have been only us.

I could see the desire in his eyes. It flickered, at first, and then roared into life as though it only needed a single spark. Like dry tinder, waiting for just one light. I would have liked to explore those emotions--in a physical way--had the shower door not then been slammed in my face.

But, as it was, I found myself quite suddenly alone.

At first I was just mildly shocked, and overheated--not by the temperature of the water. I felt as though someone had flicked a switch on in me a second too late, and everything sprung to life. Waves of hotness poured over me, and everything began to tingle with a fiery hot sensation of wetness and pleasure.

I waited for it to pass, slowly closing my eyes and concentrating my power onto something else--anything else besides the look in Obi-Wan's eyes.

For once, I knew I hadn't imagined it.

Eventually, I had to use cold water, because meditation alone could not overpower the desire.

When I finally emerged from the shower I was mildly surprised to have found my master not in the ship. Surely, he would not have left me? He was never one to take off without telling me! Only, I supposed, for matters of the greatest importance would he leave.

And so, here I was alone.

I sat down, staring into the falling twilight just beyond the translucent paneling, allowing my thoughts to drift slowly back over the scattered memories that had somehow made me fall in love with my master. I didn't know how long I had felt this way towards him--but I knew that over the course of these many solitary years that emotion had always been guiding me on.

It hadn't been until three years ago that I had wanted to touch him. That I had wanted to feel him atop me. At the time I wasn't sure what these emotions were, or sensations. Jedi usually leave puberty to its own pathway--and I certainly found mine by lusting over my master. I found it, all right.

But I was careful to hide it.

Or so I thought.

Looking back on that time I don't know how my master put up with his young Padawan who obviously had a crush on him! I shake my head and tried not to think of that.

It is something completely different now, these feelings I have for him. I still love him, yes. But I am not afraid anymore to touch him, to want to hold him, to want to screw him so badly that his voice becomes a dull rasp, repeating my name over and over...

I want him to know how long I have wanted him.

Because I am getting tired of controlling my emotions--especially when it comes to a man who is obviously attracted to me as well.

_Ah, Obi-Wan has so much more restraint that I would._

But now, we are beyond that. That moment in the shower--how can he deny that he is not attracted to me? When I noticed his _very_ evident erection? I may not be the quickest Jedi ever--but nonetheless, even I noticed that. The man cannot hide any longer from what is before us--and when he returns, I intend to make that fully known.

The farce is over, Obi-Wan.

These games we played have ended.

* * *

When Obi-Wan arrived back at the ship, he had calmed down somewhat. Three oddly spent hours traipsing about the desert, reaching a small settlement, and proceeding on to (most likely) taking one too many shots of alcohol--would calm anyone down sufficiently. 

Yet, even with the alcohol, he had not managed to forget the reason for the night's escapades. He reminded himself, as he approached the small hill behind which the ship was landed--that he had left for a reason. A reason he could not explain to Anakin, of course--but there had to be some excuse.

What he finally managed as a plausible idea was that he had received a transmission that required him to--er--go out in the middle of the night?

That was utterly absurd! Even Anakin wouldn't buy that!

Well, he decided; if Anakin asked where he had been, he would simply assert his authority and reply, "I was out" or, "I went for a walk". Or something to that degree.

What would Anakin care anyway? The boy trusted him, didn't he? The only need for worry would have been if he hadn't returned by morning--and that certainly wasn't the case either.

It wasn't even midnight.

Upon clearing the hill, the Jedi master stopped in his tracks. He certainly hadn't expected this.

The fact that Anakin was sitting outside the ship, wrapped in a blanket. And watching him.

Obi-Wan blinked. What was happening? Why was Anakin outside? Had he burned the meal again?

Vague thoughts of another sort quickly surfaced into consciousness but were quickly suppressed. But that was insane, he told himself--just don't think about that any more. He had just spent the last two hours wandering about the desert in hopes to stifle those insane desires.

Intaking a large amount of breath, and hoping that he was relatively composed, Obi-Wan continued his way down the small slope and toward the direction where his young Padawan lay calmly sitting--waiting for him.

Little did the Jedi master know what his young apprentice had in store.

* * *

Anakin watched his master slowly make his way across the remaining terrain, his eyes never leaving the target. He was like some untamed animal stalking its prey in the dead of night. One movement, and then another, so softly and silently that before the helpless creature knew its fate--it would be too late. 

And there would only be him. There would be no more chasing. The hunt would be over.

Anakin could tell that his master was disturbed to find him waiting for him outside the ship. Never had he done such a thing before. He always had faith in his master to return safely and never worry over his absence for too long.

But this evening was not like other times.

To the young Padawan the time ticked away with interminable slowness that slowly brought him and his temper to the brink of insanity. With each second he watched his master's feet fall upon the dry soil, one after another, until...at last...

The two were facing each other; and Anakin at last knew the meaning of temptation. It stood in front of him with troubled eyes.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan whispered softly, and Anakin noticed that his master seemed surprised by the quality of his own voice. It was gruff, deep, and darker than anything he had thought possible. Even _his_ voice could not hide the temptation.

Once again a dull humming began to issue forth through Anakin's body. Once again that switch had been flicked inside him. Once more he felt himself loosing what little control he had.

How innocent it had all started out, this game of theirs. Like any other, Jedi Master and Padawan learner. But now it was something different. The emotion in him was one that was not allowed in his world--it was a primal and feral instinct. An instinct he had to visibly choke back when he answered tersely, "I'm waiting."

"For me?" Obi-Wan questioned gently, smiling a soft and false beam, "You know I would have been fine...come on, let's get inside."

Quickly the master brushed past his student who was still resting beside the ship. Anakin's dark eyes never left his side. The humming inside the boy only grew louder, but this time tinged with anger. To be so simply cast aside by his mentor, to be mocked for his desire, and then his presence momentarily forgotten was unforgivable! Especially when Anakin knew the excuse for the cold demeanor.

Nonetheless, he followed his master dutifully, moody and snappish. How was it that Obi-Wan, his superior, could be so innocent and not know that the mere sight of him was tempting? The flash of collarbone, his passing scent, and the wry smirk he anxiously cast towards his upset companion.

"What's troubling you, Anakin?" Obi-Wan questioned at length, after finding himself a cup of something warm to drink.

_Give me patience_, Anakin swore to himself stalking the length of the ship towards his master, his cloak flowing behind him, even in the small space. Each stride was long, purposeful and with every intent to show his anger. But what Anakin reached where his master now lay seated at the small table, he could not face him. No, his declaration would have to be a coward's one—for he could not look Obi-Wan in the eye.

"You!" Anakin spat, his back facing him, "You are what has _always _been bothering me…!" The form of the apprentice was utterly still. Even his breathing was indiscernible in the quiet. There was only the swarm of anger and condemned passion that whirled around his disturbed body.

Had Anakin been facing his master he would have noticed the spark of emotion that appeared on his face but was quickly extinguished. Superiority replaced hurt, distance replaced compassion, and the two were even further apart. Nonetheless, Obi-Wan could not distance himself at such a length to not be flustered by his apprentice's brazen confession.

Fumbling for words, Obi-Wan sputtered, "Well, I--"

Yet Obi-Wan never finished the sentence for quite suddenly there was familiar warmth about him. Anakin has never been one to beat around the bush for long. Like everything about him-- Anakin met it head on, and so when Obi-Wan felt Anakin's hot wandering lips upon his own--somehow, the master was not surprised. It was Anakin's brazen nature that had first attracted him.

* * *

The dark, enraged passion drew me, ever deeper, guiding me on into a place that only my private dreams had ever dared to explore. Wet hotness seared my lips that were slowly pried open by the strength and will of Anakin. It was an angry kiss--frustrated, in a way that I could understand. Years of denial, years of restraint! Years of refusal were expressed through the movement of our bodies which slowly grew closer as the exploration grew ever more adventurous. 

Throughout it all, the pressure continued, slowly at first and then with greater hurry--as though Anakin was afraid he would loose this moment forever. Dimly, I felt the impressions of rough-pleading-desperate fingers digging into my back drawing me closer, clutching the fabric, extinguishing the gap between us.

But my final betrayal was when a moan of pleasure sneaked through my lips and disturbed our heavy breathing. Yet, this response only served to heighten Anakin's passion and he buried his hands in my hair, pressing the two of us together, gasping at the sensation of my body pressing against his now obvious arousal.

His scent was intoxicating me; soon I would not even have a conscience for what I did to him. I just wanted him--he probably didn't even know how badly.

When Anakin spoke his voice was dark, dripping with passion and triumph, "There--Obi-Wan, even_ you_ cannot deny that..."

True. Even I could not ignore the fact that I had reciprocated the kiss. It certainly hadn't been one sided at all. And yet, how was it that this path had to be so much harder than the path I ought to follow. The path of limitations! "Anakin..." I began tentatively, my breath still ragged and rough, "You don't understand, I am you're master..."

Words fail me.

"I know. I've spent the two years thinking about it...about you..." He leaned forward again kiss my neck, separating what little distance is between us, continuing on in his honest way, "...and me. Together."

He is more brazen than I ever expect as he sneaks his hand beneath my robes sweeps across the inside of my thigh. "I know I want you...if you want me." He stands and puts his hands on my shoulders. My eyes are now level with his navel and all my conscious thought goes skipping along that dark path. "Do you?" he asks.

There is no question. Of course I want him. What more is there to say? How can I explain that I have dreamt of this moment for just as long as my apprentice so obviously has? How can he say that this past minute has been like something out of my dirty sexually frustrated dreams? Even the Force cannot control one's sexual urges. Meditation has not been only for peace of mind--but for peace of body. Truly, this boy has driven me out of mind with desire.

And how can I answer? How can I look into his eyes and say--"Anakin, I want you." And very badly at that.

My stomach lurches and at last I brutally kiss my name from Anakin's parted-lips as the last traces of that once very distinct line separating us dissolves into nothingness. Anakin presses against me and his smooth warm skin melts into mine perfectly. My senses become befuddled; my mind goes spinning into madness for one brief ecstatic moment. At last, Anakin crushes his mouth against mine and I can feel his hands desperately tugging at the chord to my pants.

Moaning against Anakin's lips, I open my mouth for his tongue pushed its way in, kissing him back so hard it almost hurt. Held down by the strong wrists down on either side of his body, I am rendered nearly incapable of movement, although for his part, Anakin showed no sign of wishing me to. No, in this case, student and truly surpassed master.

I look up at Anakin and mean to damn him for ruining me. For the moment, I can only manage profound gratitude. He has saved me from myself--and, I suppose, I have done the same way.

In one fluid motion, we tumbled to the floor, a desperate tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and passionate gasps. I surprise myself by quickly sliding off Anakin's robes. Soon, he is naked beneath me and at last I can slowly intake that body which I have only seen at glances. Tonight, we will hide nothing from each other. Somehow, I note dimly, he has managed to be on top. When, finally, we are completely naked and lying against one another we both still, simply absorbing the sensation of the other's skin against our own. It does not seem real.

Anakin at last stirred from our warm embrace as he began to run his fingers along my body. It has been years since I have been caressed--that my body has been explored, pried open, destroyed, and healed. Anakin watched me with his eyes, never leaving my face--enjoying the reaction that he caused. I hear his name about me and I realize that I am calling out in desire. First my collarbone, as his fingers trailed along the left side of his body, flicking gently over a defined nipple. His touch is whispering lightly against my stomach, and finally scorching like fire against his hip and down to my thigh. At last we come down to it.

He reaches his arms out to welcome me. I surrender to my fall.

Bathed even in the fluorescent lamplight, he looks like a god above me, his lips swollen from my kisses, his skin heated. The naïve, innocent boy of his past was gone. He is at last a man--and somehow, tonight, I know this will be the end of our training. He is a man who can make his decisions, strong and independent.

For some odd reason, he wanted me.

He enters me hard and rough, painful and damning. I swear slightly, and grip his body against me--holding him ever tighter, as though without his lips and legs I would be nothing. Merely a mass of flesh. But Anakin wields me as he would a sword and he grips me tighter, whispering my name, pressing his lips to my neck as the pounding sensation begins to ignite every sense within me.

Feverish whispers, desperate moans, and the continual rocking cradle the two of us. He pushes into me harder and deeper until it feels as though I will break in two. Yet, the pain melts quickly into pleasure with each continual thrust. He continues to whispers things in my ear--things that through my blinded desire I can only half make out.

All I know is him. All I can think of is him.

But when has this ever been any different? Now, I can only feel his chest pressed tightly against my back--his strong arms gripping my body, his legs pressing into my thighs, urging me ever forward to the brink of beautiful destruction.

Our pace continues, gathering speed and inertia, and I am only half-conscious of our bodies, all I can feel is the pleasure scorching through my veins. My body is dripping with sweat, his and mine alone, and we in this act of darkness we find solace. In every movement, in every caress, I know that I go against an order that I have pledged allegiance to.

And yet, he draws me ever forth until I cannot remember my own name.

All I know is Anakin, all I feel is him atop me, his voice in my ears, his wet hair against my skin tracing circles and random patterns.

At last we reach the brink, the edge at which I have walked so many times. We have reached the point beyond no return--and with this last and final thrust, as contentment and satisfaction course through my body, I know that I have reached a point that even with the passage of time cannot blemish. Whatever may happen, whatever trials may befall us, for the moment, the two of us tangled in each other's arms, this is enough to guide me through life.

I take his head and tilt it towards mine, a grin gracing my features--and I kiss him, hard, and long. And yet the emotion between us is strangely soft, and gentle. What we have done may have be an act of the physical, for pleasure only--but this kiss we share is the emotion that has guided me on...

He returns it in such a way that I know he feels the same.

And I know that these games we have played have ended...

...And yet, they are just beginning.


End file.
